


Breakfast with Ronnie

by Persiflage



Category: Law & Order: UK
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alesha finds an unexpected source of strength in her friendship with Ronnie Brooks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast with Ronnie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kereia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kereia/gifts).



> The rating is for discussions of non-consensual sex. I wrote this for kereia for a 2009 Yuletide prompt (yeah, don't ask!) Kereia asked for _An Alesha & Ronnie friendship story, possibly dealing with her rape would also be great._. Kiera also expressed an interest in Alesha/James, so this combines both (because I can't help shipping them!)  
>  **Spoilers** 1.07 - Alesha  
>  **Disclaimer:** ITV owns Law  & Order: UK - I just can't stop playing with the characters!

The first week she had breakfast with Ronnie, Alesha had gone along expecting to discuss some aspect of the case she and James were preparing; she'd also expected Matt to be there as well, but in both expectations she had been wrong. They drank coffee and ate breakfast (croissant for her, pain au chocolat for him), and he'd talked about his first wife; Alesha had been slightly mystified, but listened attentively.

The second week Ronnie had talked a bit about one of his AA meetings, and the third week he'd talked about an incident when he'd been unfit for duty because of his drinking. Alesha had realised then what he was doing: building up the level of trust between them so that, if she wanted it, he was there to listen should she want to talk about Merrick. That realisation had left her choked with suppressed emotion: Matt could barely look her in the eye, and James was clearly struggling to know what or how much to say – she had quickly seen that he was afraid of hurting her, and that he was worried that their nascent relationship was in ruins. But Ronnie wasn't asking anything from her – instead he was offering her a precious gift: the space in which to talk.

They've been having breakfast once a week for six weeks before Alesha finds the words she wants.

"I was pretty stupid," she says, sipping her coffee.

Across the table Ronnie cocks an interrogative eyebrow her way, his mouth full of pain au chocolat.

"I thought it'd be easy to prove what Merrick had done," she elaborates. "I never realised before that undercover work is so – " She pauses, searching for the right word.

"Delicate," supplies Ronnie after swallowing.

She nods. "Yeah."

He smiles affectionately at her across the table. "As an undercover cop you make a great prosecutor, Alesha."

She laughs. "Yeah, yeah, I know, don't give up the day job."

He laughs too, then reaches across the corner of the coffee shop table and squeezes her free hand briefly. "Seriously, though, you are a brilliant prosecutor. Stick to what you know."

She nods, feeling a surge of gratitude for his words. It's not that James is sparing in his praise, far from it, but it's nice to hear it from Ronnie – he's got years of experience of doing his job, and has probably sat through even more trials than James, so if he thinks she's good, she knows she can trust his opinion.

"Didn't you have any idea what he'd done to your friend?" he asks after a few moments.

She shakes her head. "None," she says. "I just thought he'd touched her inappropriately, which is horrible enough, but not that." She can't bring herself to say the word, not yet, although the counsellor has advised her to name the act as a means of diminishing its power (or something – she's not sure, now, what the phrasing had been).

"I would never have gone back that second time if I'd had the slightest idea that's what he'd do to me." She scowls down at her empty plate. "I'm not completely stupid."

Ronnie's hand covers hers. "Of course you're not, love. Far from it."

She looks up, aware of tears pricking her eyes. "I'm not sure many people would agree," she says. "It's just – " She pauses, trying to control her emotions, and Ronnie waits silently, his hand still on hers. "It's my fault he hurt Diane – I lent her the money to go and see him, and I encouraged her to actually see Merrick, rather than anyone else."

"That doesn't make it your fault, Alesha," he tells her softly. "You're not the one who assaulted Diane."

"No, but – "

"No, no buts," he says firmly. "You've got enough to deal with of your own, without taking responsibility for what happened to Diane as well. Unless you actually knew in advance that Merrick was the kind of man to rape his patients, then it's not your fault."

She gives him a weak smile, then accepts the handkerchief he offers her when the tears start to slide down her cheeks. "Thank you."

He pats her other hand, then goes back to finishing his breakfast.

* * * * * *

When Alesha gets to work she heads to her office, hoping to avoid running into anyone before she can compose herself; however she's out of luck as James is coming out with a file in his hand and he looks up with a smile that fades into an expression of concern when he sees her.

He steps backwards into the room to allow her to enter, then closes the door as she crosses to her desk. She's slightly startled when he closes the blinds and gives him a wary look.

"I thought you might appreciate some privacy," he tells her softly. "Do you want me to go?"

She shakes her head, slumping down into her chair. He crouches down beside the desk, and she's reminded of that morning, weeks ago, when he'd watched the footage of the events in Merrick's office and then come to speak to her. She looks at him, thinking about how close they'd been before this all blew up, and now, sometimes, they feel so apart it's as if they're strangers again.

"Alesha." He puts his hand on the desk, his fingers almost touching her arm, and she realises suddenly that he's not touched her once since Merrick's assault – Ronnie regularly pats her hand or arm, or even holds her hand and squeezes her fingers, but James hasn't done any of that. _Perhaps he thinks I'm tainted now,_ she thinks, struggling with her emotions.

"Alesha." James leans forward and carefully puts a hand on her shoulder, almost as if she's a dog he's afraid will bite her, and suddenly she feels her self control break and she is sobbing. "Oh love." The words are whispered softly, but he moves around the corner of the desk and kneels by her chair before wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm sorry James," she gasps.

"It's okay," he tells her. "It's okay. Just let it out."

* * * * * *

An hour later they're in a different coffee shop, once closer to the CPS offices, drinking coffee in the back corner where they can't be overheard. Alesha's washed her face and applied some make up, while James has changed his damp shirt for one of the spares he always keeps at the office for when he's been working all night on a case.

"I should apologise," James says.

Alesha's eyebrows go up. "Why do you need to apologise? I'm the one who sobbed all over your shirt."

He shakes his head. "That's not important. I should have made it clear that you could talk to me so that you didn't feel you had to bottle everything up."

"I haven't been bottling things up," she says. "I just wasn't ready to talk. Besides, you're my boss – " She pauses when he winces and looks down at the coffee cup he's turning to and fro in his long fingers. "What?"

"Nothing," he says, not looking up.

"James," she sighs. "You winced when I said that you're my boss. You don't normally wince at remarks like that."

He glances up at her and she can see his cheeks are faintly tinged with pink. "I thought we were friends at least."

It's her turn to flush and look down at her coffee now. "We are, but – "

"But what?" he asks. He reaches over the corner of the table and puts a hand on her wrist, then dips his head to look up into her face. "Alesha?"

She bites her bottom lip, looking up. "I wasn't sure if we were still friends," she says.

His face falls. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you that impression. I was just trying to give you some space."

She shrugs. "You didn't meant to hurt me, I know. But – " She sighs. "I've been talking to Ronnie. He made it clear that he had time for me, to listen to me if I wanted to talk. I'd rather have talked to you, but you always seemed to be so busy."

He clasps her wrist lightly, then turns her hand over and laces his fingers through hers. "I did warn you, a little while ago, that I was rubbish," he says regretfully. "Which doesn't really excuse me, I know."

"Can I talk to you, then?" she asks, glad that he's holding her hand, that he's willing to touch her again.

"Yes," he says immediately. "Would like to come over to my place tonight? I'll cook you some dinner, and maybe we can start to reconnect again."

"I'd like that," she says, smiling a little shyly at him.

He smiles back. "Thank you." She raises her eyebrows, and elaborates. "Thank you for letting me try again and for not giving up on my rubbish attempts at having a friendship with you."

She squeezes his fingers, which are still wrapped around hers. "You're welcome."

They pull on their coats again, then head back to the office, both feeling better for having cleared the air a bit. Maybe they won't ever be more than friends, Alesha doesn't know, but she'd be happy to settle for friendship with James.


End file.
